The Savior
by ivorypolarbear
Summary: This story's a short piece written for school. It's general first-person, but definitely Harry Potter. Read in wonder as Hogwarts comes under attack from some of the worst creatures known to fandom. You could even pretend to be the main character.


Author's Note: This is a short little story that I wrote for one of my classes last spring. If it sounds a little odd, that's because I had to include a list of about 30 vocab words and context clues. I hope you enjoy it, and review with some constructive feedback!  
  
The Savior ~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The whole thing began with a snack. I was foraging in my kitchen for something to eat when the light brightened and dimmed erratically. Unable to divine the reason, I took myself and my plate outdoors. He appeared in the center of the gazebo. The accompanying flash of white-hot light startled me so much that I choked on my food. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to be quietly enjoying the springtime one moment and swallowing half-masticated carrot the next? It isn't pleasant, let me assure you. That alone would have made me refuse to be amenable to his wishes, but what happened next put me in an even fouler mood.  
  
The most euphonious music began playing and a sense of lethargy spread throughout my body. I lost all willingness to move and was content to gaze upon the stranger's handsome countenance. Such docility is very unusual for me and I resented it.  
  
Unfortunately, the stranger spoke before I could begin to badger him about his actions. His voice was a balm to my fears as he revealed that I fit a very selective set of criteria to become leader of his people.  
  
As he continued to speak, I grew more suspicious of his guise of friendliness and his old-fashioned, almost archaic, manner of speech. I interrupted and demanded to know who he was. The music cut off abruptly and I felt a dissolution of the imposed laziness in me.  
  
His name was Tom, he told me in fawning tones. His lavish praise of me continued, declaring himself my slave if I would but solve his people's plight and rid them of the terrible creatures invading them.  
  
Intrigued, I was nonetheless unable to fathom why my help was needed and said so. Tom responded by describing the creatures as a lesion on the body of his people, sapping them of their free will. They abhorred the creatures and would do whatever I wished to destroy them.  
  
I pointed out that I was only a callow girl of seventeen and not the best person to place all their hopes on.  
  
That was of no importance, I learned. It was the orthodox procedure for Tom's people to come to a girl such as I for help. Tom added that I must decide quickly, for the situation was precarious and his people would soon begin injuring themselves to avoid the creatures' control.  
  
Faced with an alternative of such magnitude, I agreed. Even I was not so cold-hearted to denounce an entire population for my own comfort.  
  
Weeping with joy, Tom took my arm and suddenly we were in the great hall of a castle. It was filled with a thousand people radiating the desperation of those under siege. In ringing tones Tom announced that I was here to disperse the creatures, sending them to the bowels of the earth.  
  
Soon I was surrounded by grateful people, many of them children. One boy with brilliant green eyes glistening tears was most effusive in his thanks. A girl with fiery hair explained that the creatures had an absolute fetish for trying to enslave him. She then led the poor boy over to the hovel he has constructed in the hope of hiding from them.  
  
Before long, I was sent on my own to rid the castle of the creatures. It was simplicity itself to gird them in a bunch with a length of rope, and a deftly applied torque made them dizzy enough to lose their way. Tom's people were saved, but I declined the position of leader. I was content to return home to my snack and leave them with the important business of mastering themselves after the creatures' invasion.  
  
When I awoke the next morning I would have thought it all a dream if it were not for the note by my pillow reading "Out most gracious thanks for giving us back our free will by ridding us of the horrendous plot bunnies." It was signed by a long list, apparently all of the people in the castle, and was headed by a fancy "Tom M. Riddle." 


End file.
